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Sunday Afternoon

I took a Sunday stroll on a beautiful, sunny afternoon. I walked through the park, observing the young skateboarders. Just beyond the skateboarders, I observed the old homeless men sitting on benches, watching me as I watched them.

As I crossed the street, I noticed a young couple along side of me, holding hands, as if they had done that but a thousand times. I have not done that once with my lover. Not on a casual, lovely Sunday afternoon. My heart ached at the image of them, so comfortable in each other's company.

I stood on the street's corner after crossing, and my eye caught another young couple, waiting at the bus stop. She was very short, and he was very tall, and they were very in love. They talked, and turned, looking for the bus, and he'd pull her into his arms, and they would kiss, as if nobody else existed. It was just the two of them in their intimate world...except for me, watching.
I could tell they had been together for a long while, by the intimate ease of their affections. It certainly wasn't new to them, but that did not take away the excitement of being together. They laughed, as they embraced each other; her face leaning far up to look at him, and his head leaning down towards hers, noses rubbing. The bus came and took them away.

A mother and daughter then appeared, crossing the street, heading towards the park I had just come from. The daughter was an adorable blonde girl of 6 or 7 years old; the mother seemed to be in her thirties, beautiful and fit. I wondered if she was a single mom, or was her husband at home, working? Was he out with his friends, at a pub, drinking; on the couch, watching the football game? With his mistress; or just not there at all?
They held hands as they crossed, and when they got to the other side, the young daughter wrapped an arm around her mother's waist, with the pure affection only a child can give. Affection bestowed freely, exempt of embarrassment, and unbridled in its expression. The daughter's embrace of her mother was conveying boundless love, and it was beautiful to see.

I felt tears gathering in my eyes, for I was deeply touched by the love I witnessed on this day. I was overwhelmed by how poignant these simple glimpses and snapshots of other people's lives were to me.
It's unlikely the people I watched will remember the nuances of that day, but I surely will, as the observer who felt privileged and humbled to watch the simple marvels of a Sunday afternoon.

Upon reflection, I realize a moment is never too small to be cherished, an act is never too ordinary to go unnoticed, and love is never too simple to go unseen.

Let us, then, be more present in our daily lives, lest they pass us by; let us be kinder to ourselves & to each other- for we all are interconnected in this life of strife and beauty; we all experience the same fears and hopes about being alone, and being loved.

Take a moment to look around you, and the simple truth will reveal itself: We are one and the same.
wildf1ower wildf1ower 26-30, F 17 Responses Jun 17, 2011

Your Response


I love good writing. The last line is so full of truth and meaning: there is so much in life around us, that is worth the time to pause and experience. If you are not writing full-time, you should be. Thank you, for sharing your reactions to the world you observed, on that Sunday afternoon.

Thank you :)

This is a wonderful story. Thanks for sharing it. I like to watch people also. The part about the older couple reminded me of a couple I knew years ago. He worked at the hardware store where I was working. He was very tall and his wife was very short. They seemed like such an odd couple. Then one night I got to see them dance. The moves were very practiced as they glided across the floor. They were so elegant. It was obvious that this odd couple were made for each other.
There is a little poem on my profile under the "I Love Coffee group. You might like it. It's all about people watching.

a moment in time is a very shaping experience like you mentioned remebering what they themselves may not..

I want to look at your other stories too you seem like a lively woman :)

Great story daisy and thank you for the laughing agreement as to the cause of my blindness lol :)

haha no problem, that story was a mind ****. and thank you for your compliment on my story!

this was nearly a year ago,but what a lovely story,and i am sure by now you have someone,with whom you can do all whats in your lovely story

You should write a novel.

What a sweet piece. I too am a people watcher. I too wonder. You will find what you seek someday; most likely when you are not looking.

one can hope! thank you, you are kind.

you really are a gifted and talented writer. You have an incredible way of expressing yourself. I actually thought I was there watching with you. Love life.

I agree. You can be a talented writer.

Great story :) Got to love Sunday strolls!

Simply amazing. You should write more.

thank you all for the lovely comments. to windsweptcowboy, you asked what keeps me from realizing my potential for love? only myself, kind cowboy.

*Cowboy draws up his horse and looks toward the city*


For a cowboy who can find comfort in the solitude of the prairie, but may feel confused within a city, you seem possessed of a magical lens to view love ... and a wonderful heart to experience love.<br />
<br />
What keeps you from realizing your potential for love?

Very beautiful. People can be amazing.<br />
Every day we should find something good within that 24 hours. I think it would make us all better people.<br />
You write wonderfully btw.<br />

i wholeheartedly agree! i'd hate to waste this beautiful thing we call life. thank you for your kind comment.

Yes daisygirl, It was a precious scene I have been on both sides of: theirs and yours.<br />
I am where you are again, and long to be back, hand in hand, holding reassuringly, as you tell it so romantically and beautifully.<br />
"You wore a gown of gold!"<br />
"I was dressed in blue"<br />
"Am I getting old?"<br />
"Oh no. Not you!"<br />
(Chevalier and Gingold in "Gigi" singing "I remember it well."